


Jedha's Legacy

by OrmondSacker



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Force Sensitivity, Force Visions, Force-Sensitive Finn, Friends to Lovers, Jedha, M/M, Nightmares, Past Abuse, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-04-22 22:07:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14318157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrmondSacker/pseuds/OrmondSacker
Summary: Away from the First Order and slowly finding his feet in the Resistance Finn starts to dream strange dreams he doesn't understand. Dreams of a broken planet and three ghosts who desperately needs his help. Aiding them will take him on a journey he had never expected to take, and lead him to find something he had thought forever lost to him, his home.





	1. Dream

**Author's Note:**

> For Finn Appreciation Week
> 
> This started with what I meant to be a one off, but it grew into a chapter one of something much longer. Chapters will be posted as I finish them.  
> Character list and tags will also evolve over time. If anything drastic occurs that needs special warning for I'll make a note of it at the beginning of the chapter.

Groggy and eyes still half closed with sleep, Finn stumbles into the mess hall. Somehow makes it all the way to the serving counter without bumping into anyone or falling over.

"Well, you look like shit," Poe says as he hands him a cup of caf.

"Thanks," Finn replies drily, accepting it.

He sips the hot liquid. It's black with just a spoon of sugar, enough that he can taste the sweetness, but not so much that it overrides the bitterness, just the way he likes it. Closing his eyes, he relishes the heat in his mouth and the bitter taste, slowly letting it do its job of waking him up.

"Trouble sleeping?" Poe asks, serving himself from the dishes on the counter.

Finn takes another sip and eyes the food. A lifetime of eating when served and only then wars with a lack of appetite due to sleep deprivation. In the end conditioning, along with the smell of the vegetable omelet, wins out and he grabs a plate of his own.

"Falling asleep? No. Staying asleep? Yeah, that's kinda getting to be a challenge," he answers as he piles omelet, toast, greens and butter onto his plate.

"Bad dreams?"

"More like weird dreams. Well it start out terrible and then is just gets strange. And then I wake up and can't go back to sleep."

He and Poe sit down at one end of a long table. It's still early and there are few other there so they have as much privacy as the open room allows for. Finn takes a big bite of omelet and starts buttering his toast.

Poe says nothing, eating in silence, waiting. Waiting for Finn to start talking and Finn knows his friend is waiting him out. He doesn't mind the tactic, he feels like talking. Maybe talking the strange dream through will make it stop and he can finally start getting more than a few hours' sleep each night.

Taking a deep swallow of caf he starts.

"It all starts with a planet. Or, a moon. It has to be a moon since there's a much larger planet behind it. It looks so pretty, all yellowy red and the planet behind it is pinkish. I feel like I could watch it forever and be happy. But it doesn't last."

He sighs and takes a bite of the toast. Even awake, the next part of the dream makes his heart beat too fast and his skin prickle with panic.

"There is, a- a flash of light. Green light. It looks like a force pike. It hurtles past me, towards the moon. I know what's coming, even the first time I saw it I  _knew_  what would happen before it did. I want to scream, but I can't. The green light rips the moon apart, makes it bleed. Then I begin to fall."

Finn's breath is coming fast and hard as the fear digs further into him. He takes his mug in both hands, folding his fingers around it to ground himself in its texture and warmth, struggling to get his breath back under control.

"That sounds like a really nasty nightmare," Poe says.

Finn nods.

"Yeah, that part is bad. After this, it's just plain weird. I... land I suppose, except I'm not standing on anything. It's just a bright void. But I'm not alone. There are three men there. Two of them are middle-aged. One with long hair who looks like he could rip you apart with his bare hands. The other looks like he's blind, his eyes are milky and he's dressed in an odd robe. The last one is about my age. He looks so sad. They all do, sad and desperate. More so every time I have this dream. They're talking, but I can't hear what they're saying. I know that I have to, that it's important, but I can't. There's never any sound at all."

He drains the last of the content of the mug.

"And then I wake. And when I do I always feel so incredibly sad, like I've lost the most precious thing I could have and can't get it back."

Poe reaches out and puts a hand on his arm, squeezing it lightly.

"I can see how going back to sleep would be hard feeling like that," he says. Poe's gaze flickers away then back. "Listen, if you get this again and want company feel free to come on over to my room. I might not be able to fix things, but at least you won't be sad alone."

The offer makes Finn feel both warm and awkward.

"Thanks, but no need for me to turn you into an insomniac too."

"Believe me, I don't need your help there. Got a few nasty dreams of my own, chances are I'd already be awake."

Finn looks at Poe questioning, but Poe suddenly finds his food very fascinating and starts eating with single-minded passion s Finn let the matter drop. Poe will talk when he's ready to.

Instead Finn returns his attention to his own plate, scarfing down most of the content before continuing.

"I just wish I knew what it all meant. The first part might be about Hosnia, that I feel guilty about it."

Poe looks up from his food, a sharp look in his eyes.

"Buddy-"

"I know, I know. It wasn't my doing, I didn't push the button or give the order and there was nothing I could have done to prevent it." He sighs again. "But guilt is never logical is it?"

"No, it's not."

They sit a bit in silence, messing with their respective beverages, each in his own thoughts.

"What I don't get is the three men?" Finn says, interrupting the silence. "Why are they there?"

His words are interrupted by Jess who plops down next to Poe with her own tray of food.

"What men?" she asks.

"In my dream, there are three men. And I don't understand what they mean."

"Maybe they're someone you remember from somewhere?" Jess suggests, her mouth filled with food.

Finn laughs.

"I doubt it. They're not the type cadet or trainees would be allowed to be around. Believe me. Too..." He struggles to find the right word. "Too rebellious looking. Not at all good role models for young, aspiring troopers of a fascist regime."

Jess shrugs.

"Maybe from before? Before the First Order took you, I mean."

One thing Finn loves about Jess is that she never beats around the bush when it comes to his past. Even Poe tend to walk on eggshells around him when it comes to talking about it. Finn knows he means well, they probably all do, not wanting to upset him, but it gets frustrating. His past are simple facts of his life, he was taken by the First Order, he was raised to be a Stormtrooper, he refuses to be ashamed of it or treat it like it is a dirty secret only to be spoken about in a hush. 

Jess on the other hand never shows any inhibitions talking about it.

Finn shakes his head.

"I was so little, I can't recall anything from then."

"Damn that sucks."

"It does."

Jess considers for a moment.

"How about after you escaped? Could you have seen them then? While you were chasing around the galaxy with Beebeate?"

Finn almost says no, then stops himself. 

_Maybe at Maz's castle?_

He doesn't really remember anyone from there except Maz herself, but these three would have fit right in with the clientele.

"Could be," he says.

Jess makes a 'there you go' gesture, clearly settling the matter as far as she is concerned.

"So what's on for the rest of your day, now the three wise men are out of the way?" Poe asks.

"I got my ongoing caf date with major Brance for picking my brain about First Order troop strength and locations. You'd think he'd got all he could by now, but the man is nothing if not persistent. He's dug up some more old star charts he wants me to take a look at, these ones of what you call the southern Unknown Regions."

"What do you call them?" Jess asks.

"I used to call it The Demesne, that's what the First Order calls its territory."

"Sounds posh."

Finn snorts.

"What do you call it now?" Poe asks.

"Space," Finn replies, flippantly. 

In truth, he doesn't know what he should call it. Like so many other things it is unclear to him now that his world has been overturned. What he grew up with under the First Order is no longer applicable, but the words and ideas among the Resistance, people who grew up under the Republic, doesn't work for him either. He tries to deal with it bit by bit as it becomes relevant, but many things remain an open question to him and the answer only silence.

Wolfing down the last of the omelets the thought gives him pause. Maybe that's what the three men means, his lack of answers. That's why he can't hear what they say, he has none.

He shakes his head, dismissing the thought. He can think about it later, he has a meeting to attend.


	2. A Familiar Name

The command center on the Denovian strike cruiser is smaller than what Finn is used to, but then the ship is less than a third of the size of a Star Destroyer. But the lack of trenches in the deck were the common staff worked while the ranking officers loomed above them, makes it feel far more welcoming.

While the command center is far more public than Finn would have thought good for intelligence work, the holoemitter here is one of the few that can handle the huge maps he and Brance have been working through.

The few other staff members in the room nods at Finn in greeting as he walks past and Finn in greets them in a similar manner in turn.

"Good of you to come captain," major Brance says as he rises from his seat next to the holoconsol.

Brance's attempt at civility makes Finn feel uneasy as it always does. He's here because he's been ordered to be, because this is where the Resistance needs him to be at this moment. He has more of a choice than he did with the First Order, he can after all walk out entirely, but the Resistance is still a military organization, orders are given and obeyed.

The pretense that things are otherwise makes Finn uncomfortable around major Brance. He'd have thought that the person in charge of Resistance intelligence would be better at putting people at ease, or at least at telling when he made people uneasy. Or perhaps Finn was better at hiding how he felt than he thought.

Or maybe Brance was trying to make him uneasy for some reason. Battle tactics Finn found easy, the often convoluted logistics of war had never baffled him, but the mind games that intel could play of bluffs, double and triple bluffs were more than he was willing to sign up for.

So he pushes his discomfort aside. If this is a game Brance is playing, Finn isn't going to follow the rules. He simply nods at the man and says, "Good morning major, you have so more maps for me to look at?"

"Yes, certainly."

Brance brings up a holomap on console.

It's almost blindingly blue, far more vibrantly so than the ones they had heretofore been looking at, and there's a lot flickering and noise compared to the younger maps.  And even at a casual glace Finn can see that it extends much further into The Demesne than any of the Republic maps had done. 

That had proved a challenge when he a Brance talked since Finn often had to add his own estimates of where a star system might be placed. A further difficulty was that the First Order had kept the Empire's names for everything, names that in some cases had been changed by the Republic, leaving Finn and Brance guessing if the reason they couldn't find a system Finn mentioned was because it was outside the map, or because it had been renamed. This older Imperial map hopefully would help solve some of these puzzles.

"I've already begun porting over some of the points that we were certain of to the new, well old, map," Brance goes on. His tone is calm and affable, perhaps he hadn't been playing games.

"Major, if you don't mind, I'd like a look at the map without any of the data points we put into the others," Finn says. "If I misremembered or we made a bad estimate then those mistakes will continue here if we just port them. This map looks closer to what I've been used to seeing, in scope if not quality, starting from scratch might seem more work than it's worth right now but we may all be thankful for it in the end."

Finns heart is racing in his chest. He can feel his palms get clammy and sweat beginning to collect between his shoulder blades. Speaking against a superior officer still fills him with dread though he knows logically that the Resistance is not the First Order and that Brance will do nothing to him for him simply speaking his mind.

"Hmmm, yes," Brance muses. "I see your point. But time is crucial in this matter. We have already lost much in regaining our bearings and building resources after D'Qar and Crait."

"I know. Can we make a copy of this? That I can look at on my own? Then I can spend the time it takes to port over the points you consider certain to go through it on my own?"

"Yes," Brace says slowly. "Yes, that would work. Where to put you though. This old map can't be read by most consoles here. I think the backup navigational room might be the only place with tech old enough for it, that can handle something this big."

Finn smiles wryly. Backup navigation is popularly known as The Bowls, placed as it is in the middle of the ship with no viewports and only a single door to enter and exit the small room. It is not a place most people want to be if they can avoid it. Perhaps that's what Brance is counting on, but Finn doesn't mind the closed confines.

"Sure, I can do that."

If Finn's answer surprises the major, he's very good at not showing it.

"Very well, let me make a copy of this," Brance says. "It'll take a little while."

**oOoOo**

Booting up the holoconsole, Finn slips in the chip with the map on it and the room is filled with its flickering blue luminescence. 

The Bowls is just as small and cramped as Finn recalls it. It makes him feel oddly nostalgic.

 Stormtrooper cadets are raised mainly on ships when young. The close confines and the constant supervision did not allow for much privacy, but Finn had always needed some time and space of his own. He found it in the air conditioning vent and maintenance corridors in the walls. Tiny, cramped spaces where he could crawl in and curl up, and listen to the sounds of the ship and of people passing outside unaware of his presence.

The cramped confines of The Bowls remind him of those precious moments of solitude and contemplation he stole as a child.

But the past is the past and he has work to do. Pushing aside the memories he focuses his attention on the map and gets to work.

The hours fly by him, their passage unnoticed as he works his way through the systems, easier now that the names are more familiar than those of the Republic's maps, a familiarity that brings with it anxiety. 

This was his world, a world he rejected, but its lingering influence on him is something he can't deny though months has passed. It makes him worry that it will never end, that to the end of his days part of him will always be 'theirs'.

Pushing hard at those thoughts he buries himself deeper into his task. Even when the door behind him opens he barely notices and when Poe raps his knuckles on the console to get his attention he almost leaps of the chair in surprise.

"That riveting huh?" Poe asks.

"No, just- What are you doing here anyway?" Finn asks breathless, his heart racing.

"Came to see if the stories were true and that this room had swallowed you since you didn't show up for lunch."

"It's lunch time?"

"Past. But if you shift it you might still be able to grab some food."

"That's okay, I'm not really hungry."

"Come on buddy, starving yourself isn't a good thing. Especially when you haven't slept enough."

"I really just want to finish this."

"I could bring you something here if you don't want to bother with the mess."

"Are you going to babysit me?"

"Do I need to?"

Finn lets out a huff.

"You're stubborn," he says.

"Since I'm dealing with a stubborn man, I kinda have to be. You're eating something, whether it's here or in the mess I don't care." Poe casts a look about the tiny room. "Though how you can stand sitting in here for hours on end is beyond me."

"I find it cozy."

Poe looks at him as if he's lost his wits.

"Well, I could say the same thing about an X-wing cockpit," Finn counters. "It's so cramped you can't even stretch your legs. How can you stand being cooped up in there?"

Poe laughs.

"Touché." Then he gives Finn a mock hard stare. "Don't think you've distracted me though, you're still eating something."

Sighing dramatically Finn turns off the console and grabs the chip that contains the map.

"Lead on then," he declares.

**oOoOo**

Poe stays with him while he eats, slowly sipping a cup of caf, and Finn almost asks him if he does need to babysit him. But he enjoys the company too much and Poe's casual chatter about everything and nothing. It's such an ordinary thing, the bits and pieces of gossip and anecdotes that Poe shares, small pieces of mundanity that helps take his mind off his anxiety and bring him back to himself.

Finishing the last bite on his plate he lets his fork drop down with a demonstrative clatter as he looks Poe right in the eye. Poe smiles serenely back at him.

"Are you going to come get me for dinner too?" Finn asks as he takes his plate to pile of dirty dishes.

"Will I have to?"

Poe's tone is light and he's wearing an easy smile, but Finn can see in his eyes that he's deadly serious. Poe is usually affable and laid back, letting Finn be who he is, but there are times like this where Finn pushes his limits, pushes himself beyond his limits, where he will quietly step in. That knowledge makes Finn both warm and uncomfortable.

He's not used to be looked after and Poe's subtle – and sometimes not so subtle – displays of concern and affection leaves him flustered, pleased and tense all at once. Torn between wanting Poe to stop and wanting him to never stop.

"I can look after myself," he says, to make a point to himself as much as to Poe.

"Good, then I won't have to come get you then."

Poe pats him lightly on the shoulder and Finn lets out a huffing laugh, willing his tension away.

"Alright, alright. I'll be good and come eat at dinner. Promise."

"Great!" Poe grins.

**oOoOo**

When he returns to The Bowls and his work Finn finds it difficult to concentrate, his mind keeps on wandering. 

To memories of the First Order and the people he knew then, he might not have been liked exactly but there were people he occasionally got along with, found comfort in. 

To his confusing feelings about the Resistance and what he's doing here, that the people he's shooting at, the troop strengths he's putting down on the map so they can make more accurate strikes, are some of those people. But they are also the enemy and would kill him and the people here he has come to care for in an instant.

And to Poe.

He more than any other thing is something Finn tries not to think about and the main thing that keeps interfering with his concentration. The way the lines at the corners of his eyes deepens when he smiles, his firm grip and how the calluses on his hands feels against Finn's arms. His softness, his concern, his pride and his temper. The warm feeling that Finn gets whenever he sees him, even when it's just in passing.

Finn isn't sure what to do about it. This isn't the first time he's felt this way about another man, but it is the first time he's allowed himself to think about it in detail only to shy away again immediately. Like so many other things in his life since he left the First Order this is both old and new, and fraught with things he isn't ready to confront.

But burying the issues aren't going to work for much longer, he knows that. It isn't that Poe is getting more obvious or more affectionate, his behavior hasn't changed in the time that Finn has known him. It's things inside of Finn himself that are changing.

Maybe he should ask to be transferred to another ship, so he wouldn't have to see Poe all the time. But all of his skills put him in position that would only put him in closer contact with him.

Sighing Finn tries for the umpteenth time to dismiss the thoughts. The dilemma is insolvable and going over it again and again does nothing except exhaust him.

He gets in an hour's worth of semi concentrated work before he spots it,  _Beshen-42_.

It's a tiny system, in the middle of nowhere, right on the border between Outer Rim and Unknown Regions. Placed far away from any major hyperspace lanes or any concentration of star system.

Small, insignificant and to Finn so terrible important. The system from which the First Order stole him twenty years before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think


	3. Past Discoveries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole chapter is a flashback to when Finn was fifteen and therefore was still in the First Order and known only FN-2187. Referring to him as Eightseven through the chapter is probably the hardest thing I've ever done writing wise, he'll always be Finn to me.  
> Can't promise that a Finn or two didn't slip by me.

**Eight years ago**  

 

At nearly sixteen cadet FN-2187 is still growing and a mess of knees and elbows. While his scores in purely theoretical subjects such as math and galactic history are as sky high as ever, his results in physical classes have taken a nosedive due to his growth spurt. 

He assumes this is why the Preceptor has called him into his office.  

He's nearing the end of his time at the Pillio training facility and the drop in his scores worries him. In the next few weeks the path of his future training will be decided and the lower scores will speak to his detriment. 

Eightseven stands in the middle of the room, two meters away from the desk, back straight, stiffly at attention while he tries hard not to fidget until the Preceptor's steely stare. His palms are clammy and he fights an urge to swallow convulsively. 

The Preceptor slowly looks away from Eightseven to the datapad lying on his desk, picking it up. 

"An interesting file, cadet." His voice when he speaks is as cold and devoid of color as his eyes and hair. Lines are carved deeply into his pale skin and if he has a name none of the cadets know it. 

Finn makes no comment, he has long since learned that cadets do not speak in the presences of an officer or superior of the academy without direct prompting. 

"Outside physical disciplines there is not a single field in which you do not excel. Of course, there is a notable decline in your physical performance." 

Eightseven's stomach contracts hard. 

"But I suppose that is to be expected at your age. Only time can tell if your clumsiness is temporary or not, our investment in all of you are a gamble at this time." 

The Preceptor taps the datapad a couple of times before laying it down on the desk again. Looking once more at Eightseven the Preceptor folds his hand on top of the desk. 

"How have you found your time at the Pillio academy, cadet?" 

"Instructive, sir." Eightseven is both surprised and grateful at how steady his voice is as he speaks. 

"Yes, that is the main idea of this place, but I was-" 

His words are interrupted by a chirp from the comlink in his breast pocket. 

"Yes?" the Preceptor says, tapping it. 

Eightseven can only hear a muted voice coming from the other end, but not the actual words.  

The Preceptor frowns. 

"Can't it wait?" he snaps. 

Whatever the muted voice says it makes him make a face of irritation. 

"Very well." 

His eyes snap back to Eightseven. 

"There is a brief matter to which I have to attend, you will remain here until I return." 

With that, without waiting for a response – the only possible response being compliance – he's gone. 

When the door slide shut Eightseven lets out a long, slow breath, grateful for the breathing space to give him time to think of an answer to the receptor's question. 

He has been on Pillio for almost two years, the same as everyone else in his year. It's the longest he, that any of them, has ever spent in one place. 

He still recalls seeing the planet for the first time. Stepping off the shuttle seeing the wide vista of broken rocks and shallow tidal pools with their colorful corals, the air that smelled of so many things that it was almost overwhelming after the stale, odorless air of the Star Destroyers he had until then spent his life on. 

The warmth of the sun on his skin and the sound of the wildlife. 

If he were to describe Pillio and how he found it, it would be beautiful. 

But he knows that that answer would not be acceptable and would invite strict censure. He needs to find another. 

_Challenging maybe?_  

He sighs inwardly, careful to give no outward sign of his emotions, knowing that he might be watched. Every part of the base is covered in cameras, the only question is if anyone is looking at the one recording him at this moment. 

If only he could be more like the other cadets, then he'd know what the right answer to give was. But for all that he excelled in every single subject there is always that barrier, between them and him. A barrier he doesn't know how to break down. 

If only he could change himself. 

As his mind wanders so does his eyes, until they land on the datapad that the Preceptor left behind on the desk. The datapad with  _his_  file on it. 

Eightseven feels a little jolt go through him. 

He's always wondered what that file said about him, what precise information it contained. But the files on all cadets were only accessible by their instructors and overseers, Eightseven has never had a chance to view it. 

Till now. 

Maybe. 

If he dares. 

He can feel it pull at him and forcefully tears his eyes away from the datapad. 

This is a test, of course it's a test. The Preceptor would not let a datapad with restricted information just lie about for no reason. So clearly, it's a test. Of his obedience, discipline and loyalty. A test Eightseven is determined to pass. 

Clasping his hands firmly behind his back, Eightseven stares straight ahead, locking his gaze on the window opposite him, focusing on the stormy sky outside, and occupies himself with the Preceptor's question. 

_Challenging_ _. Useful._  

Without his permission, his gaze wanders back to the desk top. 

_What would be on that file?_  

Their instructors usually offered only critique and on very rare occasions begrudging praise, it was hard to judge what they really thought of his or any of the cadets' achievements. Did it hold any information about his past, of his life before he could remember it? 

About his family? 

With supreme effort of will Eightseven forces his eyes away again and his mind back on the question. He  _will_  pass this test, he refuses fail. 

A loud whump reverberates through the building, the light in the room goes out and the air conditioning stops humming. 

Eightseven starts in surprise and blinks once. 

Had lightning struck the base and knocked the power out? He had seen no flash of light, but then the sky was not yet that dark and his mind had been wandering. 

The light doesn't come back immediately, so the power station must be down including the backup generators. 

His eyes fall again on the datapad and it hits him, the power is out, no cameras are recording. No one is watching him. 

Maybe it's a trap, another test. Maybe he's still observed. Somehow. 

No, all electronics are clearly dead in the room and he can see fellow cadets and some instructors mill about in confusion outside. This is real, it has to be. 

This is his chance, he'll never get another. 

Three steps forward take him to the desk. He covers his hand with his sleeve so he won't leave any finger prints and turns the datapad on. He doesn't dare turn it around, when the Preceptor returns he might realize it's been touched if he does, so Eightseven struggles to read the text upside down. 

 

**Designation** : FN-2187 

**Age** : 15 standard years 

**Height** : 170,6cm 

**Weight** : 65,2kg 

**Acquisition** :  _Seized, 6 FFO, Beshen-42_  

 

The last line resounds in his mind.  

_Seized_. He had been... taken. 

It makes no sense to Eightseven. 

The method by which the cadets had come into the First Order's care has never been addressed directly, but it had always been strongly hinted that they had been put into fosterage willingly by their families.  

Maybe his family had been... bad? Like, pirates or something. But the First Order wouldn't put a small kid in jail, so they'd made him a cadet instead. 

Yeah, it had probably been something like that. It's the only way that could make sense. 

He looks down at the screen again.  

_Beshen-42_. That has to be the name of the system he's from.  

Maybe... maybe he could go there and ask one day. His family. Or people who had known them.  

Not while he was still in training of course, cadets were kept on training bases and cruisers, and never allowed anywhere else. But once he was done, when his training had been completed and he was a full Stormtrooper he might. Then his family could see it was the right thing and they'd be proud of him. 

The sound of footsteps and raised voices outside in the corridor makes Eightseven leap back and assume an at attention stance, his heart racing furiously. And only just in time before the door slides open. 

"That's preposterous. The security on this base is the highest possible," he hears the Preceptor say behind him. 

"Never the less, someone-" 

Eightseven recognizes administrator Gelb's voice. The digital generated voice from the translator box mixing with the clicks and hisses of Aqualish makes a thrill of fear run down his back. The Preceptor is cold and harsh, but aloof and without any favorites among the cadets. Gleb? Eightseven is never quite clear where he has her, she often seems nice but it always feels as if there's something underneath. 

"Who is this? What is he doing here?" Glebe asks. 

"I was conducting a finalizing interview with cadet FN-2187 when- the incident occurred. I had intended to pick it up after, but it will have to wait now." The Preceptor turns to Eightseven. "Dismissed," is all he says before turning away again. 

Eightseven doesn't need to be told twice. Whatever happened it has clearly distracted the Preceptor, he's unlikely to notice anything amiss with the datapad. And he's grateful for the reprieve in the questioning. His mind is boggling with so many thoughts he knows he would be unable to give satisfactory answers. 

With a crisp salute Eightseven snaps about on his heel and hurries out the room as fast as he can without calling attention to himself. The incident of the knocked-out power already forgotten. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?


	4. Dinner Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy May the Fourth all!

**Present**

Finn slowly gets to is feet, waves of dizziness washing over him. Hesitantly he reaches out a hand and with two fingers touch the spot on the hologram where  _Beshen-42_  is placed.

It's real. It's real and right  _there_.

One reason why he's been so accommodating of Brance's obsessiveness with getting every little detail he could from Finn's memory is that it has given him the opportunity to study maps of the galaxy, of Republic and First Order territories in detail and at length. 

He had known the chance of finding the system was tiny. Finding one single system among tens, hundreds, of thousands, had astronomical odds. Even more so as its name indicated a small colony or facility as it sounded like it had not changed its name from the one first given to it by whatever scout had located it.

 Still, he had not been able to stop hoping.

But as days wore on into weeks and then more, that hope had slowly and surely been worn away into nearly nothing. But here, now, when he had all but given up he has stumbled upon it.

But why hadn't he seen this earlier? 

He's been over this part of the map with Brance before, yet he hadn't noticed the system. And he couldn't imagine missing that name if it had been there.

Unless, unless it had been under another name.

He turns to the shelf that holds the map files, quickly flipping through them to find one that covers the section of the galaxy he need.

His hands are shaking as he inserts the map into the console and he hesitates before calling it up.

The Imperial map is old, more than thirty years in fact. A lot can happen in that time.

Does the system still exist? Is it still inhabited? His file did say 'seized', that would indicate fighting. It would not be beyond First Order MO to take what they wanted and destroy everything – and everyone – else.

There's only one way to find out.

Taking a deep breath, he hits the button that brings up the map.

It's there. Just as insignificant and out of the way as before, but there. But on the Republic map it is named  _Da_ _tung_.

Relief washes over him, making him feel faint again and he drops down onto the chair and just stares at the map.

A loud beep of the chrono's alarm starts him from his daze. Damn, it's almost dinner time. 

Ah well, he can just skip- 

No, he can't. Poe's definitely going to make good on his promise and come down to get him if he doesn't show up for the meal.

Finn grimaces. 

The thought of having to sit placidly through a meal with the knowledge he's just found is aggravating. It'd be impossible. And he doesn't want to share his discovery with anyone, not even with Poe. This is his and his alone.

He sighs and rubs his face.

Maybe he could hide? 

He chuckled to himself. A bit too extreme perhaps and Poe would just track him down and then he'd really start asking questions. If he could eat without having to talk to anyone that would be ideal.

Hey, that's it! 

He'll go to the mess, grab some food and let everyone know he's eating something, then come back here. It's still early and not many people would be there yet and Poe's been so busy lately training new arrivals that he almost certainly won't. Poe might not like being dodged like that, but Finn knows that as long as he's eating his friend will let it go at that.

Plan conceived Finn turns off the console, grabs the chips containing the maps and heads for the mess.

**oOoOo**

Just like Finn had assumed the mess is all but empty, only the staff – which consist mostly of droids – setting out the food and a few off-duty personnel eating early, are here. He'll need to find someone who'd talk to Poe. But first, food.

Grabbing a plate, he haphazardly heaps food on it without really looking at what he puts on it. Snagging a glass of meiloorun juice as well he scans the mess hall for some of his and Poe's common friends.

He's in luck. He spots Jess and Karé just stepping in the door, deep in discussion with each other and sets his course for them. Perfect.

"Hi Finn," Jess says, lighting up in a smile when she sees him. "How's it going? Had Brance been tolerable?"

"Good. Fine. Been working mostly alone today in fact. Speaking of that. I was just grabbing some food before getting back to work."

"Oh come  _on_ ," Karé says. "Don't let that old curmudgeon Brance work you into the ground. Kick back and sit with us."

Snap comes up behind the two women.

"Brance is not that old, he's my age," he says.

Karé looks back over her shoulder and grins.

"As I said, ancient."

Snap swats at her playfully. Karé dodges easily.

"I apologize for the children," Jess says drily to Finn. "Don't let them discourage you. I'm sure they'll behave as soon as there's food in front of them."

"First I'm a geriatric and now I'm a kid?" Snap grouches. "Can you two make up your minds?"

"Listen," Finn interjects before the playful argumentation washes his resistance away. "I really want to get this done tonight. Then maybe I can get Brance off my back tomorrow. So, some other time?"

"Alright. But I'm gonna hold you to that," Jess says as Finn heads out the door.

"Oh yeah," Finn says and turns back. "Could you tell Poe I'm eating? He seemed worried about my eating habits earlier today."

"Sure. Will do," Jess says. "Have fun with the maps."

Finn gives all three of them a smile in parting, hurrying off before he gets roped into anything.

**oOoOo**

He puts the plate and glass on a small empty space on a shelf near him and boots up the console again. A borderline panic flashes back momentarily as he loads the map, an irrational fear that the system will have vanished or that he imagined the whole thing.

But Datung is there just as before and Finn exhales slowly, forcing himself back to calm.

Absentmindedly nibbling on the food, he considers what his next step should be.

He needs information. Of course, the room he's in holds an abundance of navigational data. That's not really what he wants, but he supposes it's a place to start.

A few minutes of searching gets him the bare basics about the system.

_System name_ _:_  Datung.

_Number of planets:_  5, one inhabited.

_Navigational phenomenon:_  None.

_Name of inhabited planet:_  Shanchen.

_Climate:_  Temperate, dry.

_Population:_  <1 million.

_Technology level:_  Mid-high.

_Urbanization:_  Negligible.

_Starport:_  Limited service.

He looks at the sparse information. 

A planet with very low population, but relative high technology level would suggest a newer settlement and no indigenous inhabitants, but there was no hint at what kind. No indication of what would have made that many people go to the middle of nowhere and settle down. A mining colony? Farming?

Or was it a military installation, an old Imperial one, that had turned to a civilian purpose after the end of the galactic civil war? But what kind of installation would warrant that many people.

The files before him offers no reply.

While continuing to eat he digs through every other file or directory that might yield something, but to no avail.

**oOoOo**

When Poe drags himself into the mess he feels exhausted, drained from spending the day teaching Resistance newcomers the basic of fighting as a squadron and not as a loosely affiliated group of individuals.

He loves teaching. It had always been his plan to become flight instructor for the Republic Navy once he got too old to fly active combat missions, but this is different. Few of the new arrivals have formal military of any kind or even combat experience, most only have rudimentary skills in flying and what they've seen in holovid. That and too much enthusiasm is going to get them all killed their first time out unless they break their bad habits.

If this had been the Republic Navy, if there had been peace, he would have had time to slowly get them out of their exuberant mood, or if he failed that flunk them out of the course. But this is neither and they have no time nor can they afford to reject any who can fly.

He tries to keep his calm when instructing, no one ever learned anything by being yelled at, but he can't push away that increasing thrill of fear down his spine and it puts a sharp edge in his voice at times. 

They all seem so young. They should have their whole lives ahead of them, but if they continue as they are they won't live through their first battle.

He feels like he's leading children to their deaths and that makes him feel ancient.

He fills his plate and scans the room, quickly spotting Karé's telltale multicolored braids and bee lines for Black Squadron. He needs company to distract him from his dark thoughts.

He drops down next to Jess with a deep sigh.

"Hey," she says. "You look like something the Loth cat dragged in."

"Long day."

"Aren't they all these days?" Karé asks rhetorically.

"How are the new people shaping up?" Snap asks.

"Can we talk about something else please?" Poe says. "I just want to forget about work right now."

There's a murmur of agreement from the others.

"Though speaking of work," Jess says. "You're not the only one working hard. Finn only leaped in here to grab some food earlier before going back to those maps of his."

"Oh," Poe replies, suppressing the twinge of disappointment that he won't be seeing Finn tonight.

 Having Finn near always makes him feel better. No matter how bleak things look there's something heartwarming about the man and that gentle but persistent determination of his. Even if said persistence sometimes made him push himself in ways that weren't good.

At least he was eating, that's the important part.

Snap shakes his head.

"The way that guy it working, Brance is going to latch onto him permanently and have him removed from the troops to intelligence."

"Maybe that's what Finn wants," Jess says.

"What do you mean?" Poe asks.

"I just mean, maybe he  _wants_ to get away from the frontlines."

"Oh come on, he's not a coward," Snap laughs. "I think we've got ample evidence of that."

"What are you talking about?" Jess looks perplexed at him. "How did you get that from- What I meant was that it can't be easy for him shooting at people he once knew, that he grew up with. That's nothing to do with courage."

She takes a bite of egg.

"To us the First Order is just evil. We don't think about it out there, do we? That the guys we're shooting at are people too. And some of them are bound to be people he knows, that can't be easy for him. I know I'd have a hard time shooting you guys even if you were fighting for a fascist regime."

"Thanks, Jess. I'm overwhelmed by your tenderness," Snap says drily.

Jess gives him an elbow in the ribs and continues eating.

"I can see what you mean," Karé says, her tone somber. "It might be easier for him to look himself in the eye if he doesn't have to get up each morning knowing he might end up killing someone he once called friend."

Poe has been listening to the others in silence. Finn is often so quiet it is hard to know what's going on inside his head, but now Poe wonders if this is why Finn has been pulling away lately. He had written it off as both of them simply having their hands full with too many things that needed doing and not enough people to do them, but now he can't help wonder if the fact that he's training combat pilots and flying missions has something to do with it.

That thought hurts more than Poe wants to admit, though he can't blame Finn if he feels that way. 

He hasn't asked Finn about his past, he doesn't want to pry into painful memories, but Finn must have had people among the First Order he cared about, even loved. Poe can't even begin to imagine how it must feel to shoot at a Stormtrooper and be left wondering if that was a person he once called friend.

Perhaps he should broach the subject with Finn, give him a chance to unload if he wants to talk. Of course, if he's not comfortable with Poe then that won't be productive.

Jess snapping her fingers in front of his face starts him out of his thoughts.

"Man, you were far gone. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Just..." His voice trails off as he tries to come up with an answer she'll believe.

"Worried about Finn. Yeah, that's obvious. We don't want to lose him either, but he's a grown man with his own path. And personally, I'd rather he got through this war still able to live with himself."

"I know. Ditto. I just- Never mind. Was that all you wanted to say?"

"No. We're headed for the lounge to kick back for a bit and was wondering if you wanted to come along? In fact, Karé and Snap have gone ahead. You were completely oblivious to us asking. For real Poe, are you okay?"

"I- I'm not sure how to deal with the new recruits. They're going to get themselves killed and fast if they don't learn, but nothing I say seems to get through to them. They're going to get their squadron mates killed too."

"Want me to come along tomorrow? Yell at them? I do a good screeching harpy imitation remember?"

Poe starts to laugh. 

The memory of Jess giving a new recruit who had behaved in very irresponsible fashion during a test flight a sharp dressing down is as vivid as it is enjoyable. When the young punk had said he didn't take instruction from screeching harpies Jess had very calmly challenged him to a one on one duel. If he could outfly and outgun her she'd stop yelling at him, but if he lost he'd follow orders to the letter and no more flying off on his own to show off.

The nerfherder had accepted. 

Poe had thoroughly enjoyed seeing him get 'vaped' five times in rapid succession. Neither the nerfherd nor anyone else in that group had acted up again.

"That might be overkill. But if they keep acting this way I may call you in later."

"You can always use me as a threat. So, are you coming or not?"

Poe considers begging off, just head to bed and sleep for ten hours straight, but he misses hanging with his friends. And maybe it can take his mind off... things.

"Sure, count me in."


	5. A Evening Among Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for taking so long with this, I needed to make a decision of where exactly to take this story and how I was going to get there. Hopefully I’ll be able to write chapters a bit faster now that that is sorted.

Finn reaches for another bite on his plate, only to find it empty of food. He stares at it, surprised that he'd finished all of it without noticing. But then, he had been too occupied trying to find anything about  _Beshen-42_  or  _Datung_.

He's tempted to continue digging, but he suspects that looking through maps and navigational records will get him no more than he already has. The kind of information he wants, that he needs, can't be found in star charts or travel routes. 

But it might be found in the recreational lounge's media library.

That knowledge exerts an almost physical pull on him, a siren's call to his heart, to go to the lounge right this instant and flip through the holonovels and documentaries for anything that might be there.

Doing so might call attention to him though. He had said he was going to work on these maps until he was done and failing to do that would rise questions. He normally followed through with his promises and deviating from his habit would cause raised eyebrows.

It, he, will have to wait till later if he wants to dig around unnoticed.

With a sigh he pulls out the chip with the navigational data and reinserts the old Imperial map Brance had given to him a few hours earlier – was it really only a few hours, it feels like a lifetime – and calls it up. If he's waiting, he might as well do some of that work he had promised to do.

His concentration keeps slipping away though his thoughts wandering to the mystery of Datung, a thousand questions whirling through his head, all of them unanswerable.

Mentally disciplining himself he again and again brings attention back to the star chart to look at another system and another, to add what he knows about the First Order's activities in it. And three or four systems later his mind is wandering again. The cycle continues for over an hour, Finn's irritation at himself at his inability to keep his mind where it should be, constantly mounting. 

In the end he surrenders. He'll get nothing more done tonight, try as he might. He may as well call it a day, pack up and head to the lounge and if any questions are asked, then he'll just have to come up with some sort of answer.

He shuts down the console after having taken a copy of the section of both Imperial and Republic map that contains his home system and heads back to his quarters, detouring through the mess to drop of the dirty dishes.

He locks up the Imperial map in the safe in his room. He's still a little surprised at the easy trust general Organa, major Brance and all of the Resistance has put in him. Picking his memory for information makes sense, but that they trust him with sensitive information, continues to surprise him. 

As does the level of privacy he has. His quarters might be small by the standard of most people in the Resistance, he continuously hears others bemoan how tiny the rooms on the old ship are.  But while each one is indeed small, having only room for a bed, closet and a tiny desk and chair, they're one-person cabins giving the resident total privacy, an unheard-of luxury to Finn whose life have been dominated of dorms and sleeping quarters for full squads of people to a room. As is the private fresher, though this is shared with the cabin beside his own as are all of them. But used as he is to communal facilities sharing it with one other person is no hardship. Even less so as the person he shares with is Poe and the man has a tidy streak that almost rivals Finn's own.

Having locked up the files safely Finn's gaze fleetingly crosses the bed. It looks soft and tempting as a sudden weariness wash over him leaving him feeling drained and his head filled with fuzz. But the beckon call of the lounge's library is stronger still.

**oOoOo**

The lounge is crowded with people, most of which Finn are casually acquainted with and he has to decline several invitations to join in various activities as he crosses the room to the corner that keeps their library. 

The friendly welcome he is met with leaves him with a feeling of awkward discomfort. It is still too new and unfamiliar for him to be accepted in this easy manner and he's never quite sure how to respond, or able to silence that tiny suspicious voice that tells him that none of this is real and that every smile and invitation to join hides some other motive.

The five and a half bookcases that are crammed together can hardly be called for a library in Finn's opinion. And it's not just the size, its content is such a mishmash of things, a throw together of whatever various Resistance members had donated to it.

He's pretty sure that if he tried to explain the size of the libraries that Stormtrooper cadets have access to, most people here wouldn't believe him. He doubts they'd understand how it's possible to have access to so much information and not see the First Order for what it is. But Finn has discovered exactly how insidious the First Order is after leaving. It isn't that they restrict information it's that they offer one and only one view, their own. If you tell people the same lie long enough, if you give them access only to that one falsehood and present it as the truth, then very few people will be able to see through it, much less present a counter argument.

But right at this moment Finn almost longs for those libraries, silently berating himself for never daring to look up the name of his home planet, seek information about it. But when he had had the chance he had always been too scared, terrified that it would ever be discovered that he knew what he should not. So it became a secret he carried in his heart but never dared to do anything about.

He can only hope that now he has found the courage and the beginning of an answer, he can find what he seeks.

A few Resistance member spend some of their free time keeping the library in some vague semblance of order, so finding works about galactic history and geography isn't hard. The challenge is choosing which will hold the greatest chance of him finding what he's looking so he won't have to read every single item to find out if what he seeks is there or not.

"Hey there."

Poe voice makes him jump.

"Sorry I startled you again. You seem far away today."

"Yeah, no. Just-" 

_Stars, what is he going to say?_

"Looking for any new romances?" Poe teases kindly.

Finn chuckles. His love of romantic stories has become something of a friendly, running joke among his friends.

"No, more- More history or, stuff like that." 

_Yeah, that's safe._

"Anything in particular?" Karé asks as she steps up to them.

"Erm, maybe-" He can feel his heart racing and he's wondering if his nerves are written all over his face. "Well, eh- Looking at all those maps got me thinking that I know the First Order's version of the story of the Civil War and the formation of the New Republic. I'd kinda like to get to know the other side?"

Poe gives him a sly grin and an 'uh oh' look that Finn doesn't understand. Karé immediately piques up.

"I know who you need," she says. "I saw her here the other day." 

Poe leans over and whispers, "You hit her favorite topic, she's a major history buff."

"Let me see, hope she's still here. Ah yes!"

She pulls out two holonovels from the shelf and hands them to Finn, the gleam of excitement in her eyes impossible to miss.

"Jafan Zapal's books on the beginning of the Rebellion and the early formation of the Republic. Her main time period in these two is about ten years after the formation of the Empire to about five years after its fall, but she goes further back a few times. She isn't just critical of the Empire but also of the new Republic, made her not very popular telling people things they didn't want to hear."

"Critical how?" Finn asks.

"She thought the New Republic repeated too many of the old one's mistakes. Mistakes that led to the formation of the Empire. That they focused too much on getting things running and not on getting them running well, had no time plan for implementing very much needed changes in structure and government that couldn't be put into effect right away and therefore ran the risk of never being done. Especially as those changes would harm those of the old guard still around and in power. She wrote a whole series of articles about it for scientific journals. Got her fired in the end."

 She pulls a grimace. 

"Well, they claimed it was due to restructuring," she goes on. "But they wanted her gone. Thought it gave them bad publicity. So, she turned to writing popular science books like these two. They were her first and are by far the most popular. Why are you laughing, Poe?"

Poe holds up his hands, a smile still on her face.

"I'm not, I swear I'm not. I just sometimes forget how passionate you are about history."

"Poe, it's  _history_. It's what we're fighting for in a way. If we can't remember who we were, how will we know who we will be? You of all people should understand that."

Poe blinks and he looks a little shocked to Finn.

"Yeah, I... suppose you're right," Poe replies quietly, but Karé seems not to notice as she turns back to Finn.

"These makes for a good start if you want to know about history from the Empire and forward. I can throw some more at you when you're done if you want?"

"Yeah. Yeah, sure. That would be great."

"But whatever you do, give Corr Berand a wide berth."

"He's not that bad," Snap, who has joined them, interjects.

"You're right, he's worse. He did well under the Empire  _for a reason_. The man is a bigot, a chauvinist and a member of the Centrists' Old Empire faction. And I better give the politics a rest, I can feel Jess giving me side eye. If we skip playing  _vector_  tonight just because I went off, I'll never hear the end of it."

"It's okay. Thanks for the recs," Finn says, pockets the two holonovels and takes a step back.

Poe puts a hand on his arm.

"Please stay. If not, I'm going to have to team with Snap and he's shit at strategy games."

Finn expects Snap to protest, but the large man just grins.

"I don't know," Finn replies.

He's itching to go back to his room with the two holonovels and skim through to see if there's anything at all about his home planet.

Poe puts a hand on Finn's arm. It's warm and he can feel the grasp through the fabric of his jacket.

"Please?" Poe says, is warm eyes exerting their own pull on Finn.

"One game."

"Great!"

**oOoOo**

_Vector_  is a game with its origin in  _dejarik_ , but instead of pitting two players against each other it has each side be a team of two or three people, each player with their own pieces that they control. The goal is the same as in  _dejarik_  though, to defeat the opponent or render their forces inoperative, but has the added element of needing teamwork and the complication of team members not being able to discuss tactics during the game but having to read each other's moves.

While  _dejarik_  had been a common game played by the Stormtrooper cadets it was not one Finn had played often. Not because he wasn't good, but because he was too good. No one wanted to constantly lose to him. But the added complications of  _vector_  are still new to him as he's not had many chances to play it yet in the brief time since he left the First Order.

He's good a teamwork, but he's used to being put in a leadership position with others following him and the give and take style of Poe's leadership with its unclear hierarchy is unfamiliar to him. Karé and Jess on the other hand has worked together countless of times and it shows in the effortless way they read each other's moves and strategies, and by the time the match is less than half way done it is clear to Finn that he and Poe is going to lose this one.

Perhaps his thoughts are a self-fulfilling prophecy or perhaps it would have gone that way regardless of his expectations, but he and Poe do end up the losers.

Poe congratulates Karé and Jess, and the two of them drifts off to one of the sofa arrangements along with Snap. Finn stays seated at the game board, looking at it in dismay.

Poe puts a hand on his shoulder, drawing his attention away.

"Hey, you coming? Or you calling it a night?"

"I'm sorry we lost."

A frown flits across Poe's face.

"Hey, it's nothing. It's just a game. We weren't even playing for money."

Finn shrugs, unable to let go of his sense of anxiety and irritation.

"I guess," he replies mostly to say something and gets off the chair. "I'm going to head back to my room, I'm kinda tired."

Poe nods.

"I'll come too. I'm pretty done in. It's been a long day."

"Okay."

Bidding the other three goodnight, the two of them head off together.

**oOoOo**

Spaceships has no nighttime as there is no night in space and the machinery needs constant supervision. So its rooms and corridors are always filled with beings fulfilling their tasks or going from one job to another. But as Finn and Poe heads towards their cabins it is between shifts, so the corridors are less busy than they could have been.

"Poe, can I ask you something?" Finn says as they walk.

"Sure, buddy."

"When Karé said that 'you of all people should understand that', that is, the importance of history, what did she mean?"

"I guess, that... my family is from Alderaan. That when our planet was destroyed remembering who we were became all the more important if we were going to hold on to ourselves and not get swallowed up by the galaxy."

"Oh, I didn't know that. That you were from Alderaan, your family I mean."

Poe shrugs.

"I've always thought of myself from Yavin, that's the only place I recall. There's a strong Alderaanian foundation in the settlement I grew up in, but it's not really something I spend a lot of time thinking about. There's stuff from other places too, we're not the only ones living there. And it just... kinda is. I don't know if that makes sense."

"Maybe."

Where you grew up, how you grew up, was something you carried with you no matter what. But maybe it wasn't that big a deal, maybe it didn't have to be. 

He looks at Poe out of the corner of his eye. The man looks tired and worn. The lines on his face usually soft and barely noticeable, have become deep grooves.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"Hmmm? What? Yeah, I'm- I'm fine. Why?"

"You look a little, well tired."

"It's late." The lightness in Poe's voice sounds contrived.

"It's not that late really and you don't usually look like this even when it's much later."

"It's- Argh, it's a lot of things. I'll feel better after a night's sleep."

Finn makes a small hmmm, not pushing the issue though he gets the feeling that Poe isn't telling him the truth.

"How about you?" Poe asks. "How are you doing? You've felt spacy when I talked to you tonight and... well, like you're somewhere else. Or want to be somewhere else."

Finn feels his pulse pick up.

"No, it's- It's my dream, it just keeps coming back. I just wish I could forget it. That it'd leave me alone."

"Ah. Yeah, well. Let's hope you can sleep without dreams tonight. And if they do get bad, you know my room is just through the fresher. You can always come in."

Finn shifts on his feet, feeling both warm and cold at once.

"Yeah."

There's a moment of silence before Poe smiles again and briefly clasps Finn's shoulder.

"Goodnight then."

"Goodnight."

**oOoOo**

Poe's is greeted by soft beeps from BB-8 the moment he steps through the door.

"Hey there, buddy," he says softly as he steps into the room.

He kneels down and gently rubs Beebeeate's round belly.

"How was your day?"

He's answered by a flurry of enthusiastic beeps.

"Huh, that good?"

There's no masking the affirmative, nor the querying tone in the whistles that follows.

"It was- It could have gone better. I just don't know how to handle all these kids. Eh, maybe I'm just getting old, can't stay twenty forever, " he says with a lightness he doesn't feel.

He gets to his feet and start making his usual 'before bed' rounds in the room, setting the alarm, fluffing his pillows and changing into his nightclothes. But it isn't the troubles of the new recruits, or their youth that occupies his mind as her gets ready for bed. Rather it's Finn.

He was so clearly uncomfortable earlier, nervous and agitated, and very distant all evening. He had put in some effort in their game, but he still seemed not quite himself and not altogether there. The lighthearted quips he'd usually make were nowhere to be heard, nor was his soft laugh.

The answer Finn had given minutes ago had felt off, like there was something he held back, something he didn't want to tell Poe. Maybe he should have pushed harder to get Finn to talk, but it felt like too much of a violation of Finn's privacy. If he wanted to keep this to himself, surely that was his right.

Poe just wishes that Finn would open up, even a little. Even if it is to tell Poe to take a hike.

If his company was making Finn feel uncomfortable, whether it was because of Poe's active part in combat or because of his growing feelings for Finn, then it might be better for both of them to part ways instead of wearing away at each other. Even though the thought of a life without Finn is not a something he wants to entertain perhaps it would be for the best.

And if it's something else that's burdening him, then carrying it alone can't be good.

Tomorrow, Poe promises himself. He'll try again tomorrow. And the next day and the next, until something gives. He can't just let things stand as they are, he can't let Finn fight with whatever this is alone.


	6. Intimacy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, not that kind of intimacy. Okay, kinda but not really.

Finn quickly showers and changes for bed, pulling on the T-shirt and sweat pants he usually sleeps in these days before settling down with the first of the holonovels.

A quick scan on the index reveals neither Datung nor Beshen-42 mentioned anywhere, but he tries not to let that discourage him. If either name is only brought up in passing they might not have been considered important enough to be listed, but any kind of information would be more than he has. So he settles down and begins to read from the beginning, even if it gets him nothing else it'll provide him with another view of galactic history than the one the First Order force fed him and lend truth to the lie he told earlier.

Zapal proves to be an engaging writer with a lot to say and her passionate style a difference in the dry one he's been used in history texts.

He continues reading until his eyes begins to droop and the text start to blur in front of his eyes. Knowing that he'll get no further today, but still distressed at the lack of information he puts down the holonovel, turns off the lights and closes his eyes.

**oOoOo**

It is there, right in front of him as it always is, the yellow orb with the larger pinkish one right behind it. It feels like they're calling to him, their vibrant beauty touching something inside of him for which he has no name. 

Time has no meaning here and yet it passes. All too soon there is a change, a presence he can feel somewhere behind him.

It has come.

He hurts all over, the silence is roaring in his ears. He wants to shout, to warn, but he has no voice.

A spear of green hurtles past him, straight the yellow moon and when it strikes the orbs shatters.

Something shatters inside him as well and he falls.

There is no up, no down, no point of reference in the void, perhaps he falls forever or perhaps it ends, but suddenly they are there. The three men, the young, the tall and the blind.

His chest and throat aches as he looks at them, all three of them so serious as the stare back.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

He knows they'll talk to him and he knows he won't be able to hear them, but this time the dream breaks form.

The young man steps forward and holds his hand out to Finn. He's dressed in a form of tunic that reaches past his knees and baggy pants, all of it in light blue. His black hair and beard are short and neatly trimmed.

Hesitantly Finn takes the young man's hand. The young man points off in the distance and for a moment all Finn can see is the same empty void as it always there, then as if it has always been there, there's a majestic mountain range its peaks reaching for the deep blue sky.

The yellow brown rock of the mountains seems to almost glow, something that Finn cannot put into words, a power or sense of strength, emanating from them. It pushes and pulls at him.

The young man makes a gesture as if to say 'come' and starts leading Finn towards the mountain range and as they move closer the sensation increases.

Finn looks up at the looming peaks as they near them, jagged and sharp like they would cut the sky I they could. So absorbed is he by their ominous majesty that he doesn't notice how close they are to them and then they pass through the rock and stone, engulfed in an odd shimmering darkness that all colors and none at the same time.

Beyond lies a cavern, wide and open, its ceiling rising far above Finn's head. So far it is almost lost in the forbidding red light that fills the cave.

The light brings with it anger, grief and a heart rendering loneliness that overwhelms him.

_No, no, no, no._

He can't think, he can't  _breathe_  in here.

Unthinkingly he tears away from the young man and flees as fast as he can.

**oOoOo**

His chest is tight when he wakes and tears stings the corners of his eyes. The room is pitch black but the imperative to  _move_  overrides everything and propels him out of bed.

The icy feel of the metal floor against the soles of his naked feet jars him out of the last tatters of web of sleep, but the pressure in his chest doesn't ease, nor does his heart stop racing.

Where can he go? Who would-

_"_ _You can always come in."_

_Poe!_

The thought sends him into motion and he quickly make his way across the floor, picking his way in the darkness, through the fresher and into Poe's room.

The other man's room is just as pitch black as his own and it's filled with the soft, snuffling sound of sleep.

What had he been thinking? It's the middle of the night, he can't wake Poe up.

But before he can retreat back the way he came there is a soft beep from somewhere to his right. To Finn it sounds almost deafening

"Shhhh," he hisses. "Don't wake-"

"Mmmmmph, Beebeate what is it? Are we under alert?"

Too late.

There's shuffling of cloth, the creak of a mattress and then the muted light from Poe's bedside lamp fills the room. Caught, Finn shifts on his feet, not knowing where to look as Poe sits up in his bed, rubbing a hand over his face.

"No, it's- It's just me. Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you, I wasn't thinking."

"What's wrong buddy?"

Far too conscious of the tears still trapped at the corner of his eyes, Finn can feel the heat rise in his cheeks.

"Buddy?" Poe asks as he gets out of bed and walks to Finn.

This is ridiculous. It had just been a dream, why is he making such a fuss over nothing? But he feels his owes Poe an answer for waking him.

"It's just- The dream came back and you said that, that well, I could come in if..."

"Yes." Poe holds out his arms and though part of Finn still wants to downplay the whole thing, the terrible ache that's still lodged in his chest moves him forward and into Poe's embrace.

Poe folds his arms around Finn and rubs small circles on his back with one hand. Finn finds it difficult to relax at first, uneasy for reasons he can't name and braced as if for an attack. But if that is what he expects it never comes, instead Poe just holds him gently and mutters, "I'm here. It's okay, I'm here," into his ear.

Finn can feel how the heat from Poe's body seeps into his own, and he smells nice and warm from sleep. Hesitantly Finn wraps his own arms around Poe's waist, puts his cheek on Poe's shoulder and allows Poe's warmth to melt away the terror.

"I don't want to be alone," he mutters against Poe's shoulder. The words bring with them a brief moment's anxiety when he's said them.

"Then stay," Poe replies, words that chases the nervousness away. "You can sleep here if you want to."

"I do."

The admittance makes him feel calmer and when Poe gently tugs him towards the bed Finn willingly follows.

Beebeeate have been hovering like a nervous ball near them and now he spins rapidly on his axis the way he often does when he's trying to cheer someone up. Finn can't help but chuckle at the antics so he supposes it works after a fashion.

Then he looks at the bed and the nerves that had just left him begins to skitter beneath his skin again.

"You okay?" Poe asks.

"Yes, I- I just never done this before. Shared bed with anyone. I was thinking about the logistics of it."

"Nev- No, I suppose not. Okay, lie down on your side and face the edge of the bed."

Finn slips beneath the covers, laying down the way Poe told him to, right at the edge of the bed. Poe crawls onto the bed and scoots up behind him, chest pressed against Finn's back, knees tucked up behind his. He slips one arm under Finn's neck and wraps the other around his waist.

Finn stiffens, heart hammering in his chest. It's a lot of body contact and having someone snuggles up behind him like this feels both weird and new.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," Poe says as he begins to pull away again.

Finn grabs hold of Poe's wrist.

"Just, give me a moment okay. I said I've never done this before."

Poe settles down again, but Finn can feel a rigidity in him too now.

It is an odd sensation, having Poe so close in this way, pressed up against his back, arms loosely wrapped around him. A little overwhelming too and it's accompanied by an odd feeling of agitation but not a form on it that's unpleasant. Just a lot.

Finn focuses on Poe's hand that's lying flat against his chest, the feeling of the fingers through the fabric of his shirt and slowly begin to relax. And it's Poe, who always has a smile and a kind word for him, no matter what else is going on.

"It's... nice," he says to Poe, to say something to put his friend at ease though it sounds a bit silly to his own ears.

"Nice?"

"Mmmm. Feels warm."

Poe untenses and his arms tighten just a little around Finn. That feels kinda nice too.

"You good to go back to sleep then?" Poe rubs his arm and Finn can feel the calluses on his fingertips against the skin of his forearm.

"Yeah, though it always takes me a while to fall asleep."

"Don't worry about shifting about. Once I'm asleep it can take a bit to wake me."

Finn nods.

"Shall I turn of the light?" he asks.

"Do that. Goodnight again, Beebeeate."

"Goodnight Beebeeate," Finn says as well, turning off the nightlamp. A soft thrill of beeps fills the dark before the room falls silent.

Poe falls asleep almost immediately and Finn can feel the soft regular huff of his breath against the back of his neck. Another new feeling, another one he decides that he likes. Now that there's no pressure and he can relax into it is pleasant to have another person this close, to be held in this way. He could get used to it.

The panic he had felt upon waking is all but gone, and the safe feeling of Poe's arms and the heat coming off his body, melts away the last vestiges.

His eyes feel heavy and sleep beckons far more quickly than it usually does, but he finds himself fighting it. Not because he's afraid to sleep, in this safe cocoon he feels like he might never be afraid of anything ever again, but because he doesn't want to lose that feeling.

When sleep finally overtakes him, his dreams are not of yellow moons or looming mountains, but of gentle hands with calloused fingers caressing his cheeks and neck, and soft lips brushing against his own.

**oOoOo**

Poe wakes to the feeling of a warm, heavy body pressed against his own. Sleepily confused for a moment as he doesn't recall bringing anyone to bed with him, he hasn't in years, before remembering Finn coming in in the middle of the night. He must either be a heat seeker or a sleep snuggler because he's practically lying on top of Poe.

The slow, regular breathing tells Poe that Finn is still soundly asleep something Poe is private relieved of as he has noticed a personal and kind of embarrassing problem. His waking mind might be able to suppress his attraction to Finn, but his sleeping body has no such defense mechanism and right now he's having a fairly noticeable physical reaction to Finn's closeness. A reaction Finn won't be able to miss the moment he wakes, as his thigh is currently wedged firmly between Poe's legs. A position Poe under other circumstance wouldn't be objecting to, but it could make thing awkward when Finn wakes. Finn might be less than enthused to find Poe having a literal hard on for him and the last thing Poe wants is to make Finn feel uncomfortable.

Slowly he tries to shift away under Finn, just a little, enough that things are not quite as... obvious, but Finn immediately tighten his grip and hooks his leg around Poe's.

Despite his embarrassment and mortification Poe smiles in the dark, feeling a tug at his heartstrings at Finn's actions.

Beebeeate's whistle-beep pierces the silence in the room.

"Shhhh. You'll wake him," Poe hisses. 

"Yes, I know we have to get up soon," he adds in a whisper at Beebeeate's subsequent query after having shot a quick glance at the chrono, its numbers glowing in the dark. "But he hasn't been sleeping well. I'd rather he sleeps as much as he can." 

And then maybe Poe can find a solution to his predicament before Finn awakes.

"If you want to go on with your day don't let me stop you, but please don't wake him."

There's a huffy tone in Beebeeate's departing salute, but he rolls out the door without further ado leaving Poe and Finn alone in the room.

Poe lets out a slow breath.

"That droid is getting bad manners," he whispers under his breath.

The room once more dark and quiet Poe again tries to shift out from under Finn, achieving the same result. Or lack of it. Finn really does make a convincing impression of an octopus in his sleep.

Huffing he relaxes back down on the bed. Maybe he can think it away.

_Come on, you don't want to make Finn_ _uncomfortable,_ _do you?_

His body is less than cooperative, a warm, sleepy, cuddly Finn too alluring for it to ignore.

Finn shifts in his sleep, restlessly, getting closer to waking.

_Damn, damn, damn, damn._

"Mmmmmph." The incoherent sound from Finn is accompanied by more movement.

"Goodmorning buddy," he says, trying to sound as unconcerned as he can. Maybe he still has time to move away before Finn notices.

"'morning," Finn says, his voice slurred by sleep and nuzzles his head against Poe's shoulder. 

Poe can feel how his heart skips a beat in his chest. Finn sounds so relaxed and unguarded here in the dark. If only he could think of a way to surreptitiously move away.

Finn is the one who ends up solving the problem, casually moving his leg away but he keeps his head on Poe's shoulder.

"Sorry," he mutters. "Didn't mean to get familiar like that."

"It's-" Poe's voices cracks and he clear his throat. "It's fine. I just didn't want you to feel uncomfortable."

"Don't worry, it happens sometimes," Finn answers, patting Poe's stomach.

The laid-back tone in Finn's voice and his casual manner makes Poe wonder if Finn had ever had the chance to wake up like this before and if so, with whom.

"When do we have to get up?" Finn asks, interrupting Poe's thoughts.

"Soon, I'm afraid."

Finn groans and pushes upright. Poe reaches out and turns on the bed lamp. Finn looks different than usual. Normally he's so put together, all sharp folds and neat corners in his dress, but now he's rumpled from sleep and there's a crease on his cheek from a stitching in Poe's shirt.

"Thanks for letting me stay here."

"Any time."

"That's nice of you, but I better not make a habit of this."

"Why not?"

"Come on, I can't sleep in here every night."

"I mean it, why not? It's my bed, I'm the only one using it. No one else in the room but Beebeeate and he adores you. So I ask again, why not?"

"I just- It-" Finn lets out a huff. "I'll think about it."

"Sorry, didn't mean to get pushy. I just wanted you to know I genuinely meant it."

"It's okay. Thank you."

Poe looks at Finn. He wants to say something more to make sure that Finn has understood, that he's gotten through the invisible wall that Finn sometimes has around himself, but he can't think of a way to do it that doesn't make him sound like an overbearing asshole.

"What?" Finn asks. "You keep looking at me funny, do I have something on my face?"

"Yeah, a crease right there," Poe laughs and points to Finn's cheek.

"Where?" Finn asks rubbing his cheek.

"Here," Poe answers trailing his fingers across the line where the crease is. 

Finn's skin is warm and soft under his fingertips, smooth even with the minute bumps from the crease. The feel of it makes Poe's heart beat faster and the way Finn just looks at him steals his breath away.

"It's almost gone now though," he says, retracting his hand.

Finn raises his hand to where Poe's fingers just touched, a faint smile gracing his lips and a tender look in his eyes.

"That's good. I can't go around looking creasy," he jokes. "I suppose we better get up now," he adds with a sigh and climbs out of the bed.

"Yeah, I suppose," Poe says, following Finn's lead. "See you at breakfast."

**oOoOo**

Finn shuffles back into his room and begins to get ready for the day, but he doesn't feel the least bit sleepy anymore.

Waking up in Poe's arms had been a novel experience, a nice one. Warm and comforting, even with the slight awkwardness. Finn isn't quite sure what to make of Poe's physical response, if it was just a guy thing or if it meant something more. He's glad that Poe didn't make a big deal out of it though, he had felt far too cozy and snug lying there to want to deal with any added complications.

But the way Poe had invited him to come back if he wanted to, that surely meant something more? Wouldn't it? 

And the way he had touched his cheek.

Finn lets his finger touch his cheek where Poe had minutes earlier, the touch lingering in his mind as well as on his skin.

Sighing he tries to put it out of his mind, it's far too complicated for him to deal with this early in the day, but that just leaves ample room for his mind to wander to the dream he had last night. He doesn't understand why this one lingers so, why it keeps repeating itself over and over. Though the cave last night had been something new. And why he remembers them so clearly. Usually his dreams fade immediately upon waking, if he recalls anything at all it's gone by breakfast. But not these.

His gaze falls on the two holonovels on the night stand and with a jolt both Poe and the dream is forgotten. 

_Datung. Home._

Tenderly he touches them, fingers trailing across their surface.

_Please have something about home._

Home. The word had never meant anything to him, until now. But now it makes his chest ache and all he wants to do is stay here and read all day in the desperate hope that there is something in there.

But he can't. He has a job to complete and once he hands the map over to Brace there will be other tasks for him. Exhaling slowly Finn removes his hand from the holonovels, determinedly turns around and retrieves Brace's map from the safe and heads off to breakfast.


End file.
